海角大神

To reunite a family kept apart, a wedding on a cross-border bridge

The gusting wind and the passersby shouting their congratulations make it difficult to hear the Spanish-language ceremony.

Even on this sunny weekend morning, the Progreso International Bridge is not ideal for a wedding. But for Jos茅, the groom 鈥� who fled his native Honduras and was granted asylum in the U.S. in November 鈥� it is one of the happiest days he鈥檚 had in years.

Damaris, his bride, wears a pink satin dress. She holds their daughter, Angelica, a garland of daisies in the little girl鈥檚 hair. Today is one of just a handful the family has spent together since Jos茅 left Honduras in 2017.

Damaris and Angelica are聽also seeking asylum in America, but for the past four months they鈥檝e been living in Matamoros, Mexico, just across the border from Brownsville, Texas. They are among tens of thousands of migrants in the Migrant Protection Protocols (MPP), a policy implemented last year that requires migrants to stay in Mexico while their cases proceed.

Jos茅 and Damaris have been together for 12 years but never married 鈥� a common practice in Honduras. Today鈥檚 ceremony, Jos茅 hopes, will help his family鈥檚 asylum cases. 鈥淭here鈥檚 no immediate benefit鈥� legally, says Elissa Steglich at the University of Texas at Austin School of Law immigration clinic, which represented them in their first hearings. But 鈥渨e鈥檙e hoping that U.S. authorities will recognize the sincerity of the family unit.鈥�

Whether they do or not is another question. All asylum claims 鈥渁re handled on a case-by-case basis,鈥� an official with U.S. Customs and Border Protection (CBP) told the Monitor in an email.

鈥淚ndividuals from vulnerable populations may be excluded on a case-by-case basis,鈥� added the official. But ultimately the goal of MPP is 鈥渢o reduce the extraordinary strain on our border security and immigration system by freeing up personnel and resources to better protect U.S. sovereignty and the rule of law.鈥�

Following the rules

Jos茅, who did not want his last name published, met Damaris when they were in school 鈥� right before a military coup threw their country into chaos.

By 2017, Jos茅 was an activist in the Yoro state in northern Honduras, campaigning against the president. That year, after he says he was captured by police and tortured, he fled to the U.S.

A few months later, unbeknownst to Jos茅, Damaris and Angelica (their names have been changed because their cases are pending) fled north as well.

鈥淭hey [had] started threatening her,鈥� says Jos茅. 鈥淪he knew that I would immediately leave and try to find her and help them come. ... That鈥檚 why she didn鈥檛 tell me.鈥�

He is sitting in the Brownsville bus terminal alongside his attorney, and he doesn鈥檛 want to discuss their cases too specifically while they鈥檙e still pending. But what happened next is difficult to recount anyway, he says, and his voice softens. Damaris reached Mexico, and sought asylum there. But 鈥渇rankly, they were abusing her,鈥� Jos茅 says. 鈥淭hat鈥檚 when she decided not to apply for asylum鈥� there and instead apply in America.

When she reached the U.S. border, Jos茅 was living in Austin, Texas, waiting for a ruling on his asylum claim. MPP had just been implemented.

Six months earlier the Trump administration had ended its 鈥渮ero tolerance鈥� policy at the southern border. That policy provoked major public criticism for separating more than from their families.

But MPP was pitched as a way to deter unmeritorious asylum claims, 鈥済etting immigration court results at a much faster pace 鈥� while keeping families together,鈥� then-Acting Secretary of Homeland Security Kevin McAleenan on Foreign Relations in September 2019.

At the time, Damaris and Angelica were in Matamoros, looking for somewhere to sleep. They spent eight days living on the streets, Jos茅 says. They both got sick.

鈥淭here was rain, there was cold, there was no place to bathe, to go to the bathroom,鈥� he says. 鈥淪he couldn鈥檛 wash their clothes. They didn鈥檛 know what they were going to eat the next day.鈥�

At Jos茅鈥檚 court hearing in December, it was the first time he鈥檇 seen his family in two years.

鈥淚 could only be with them for 20 minutes, during the time that I could meet with my attorneys,鈥� he says. 鈥淚 couldn鈥檛 give [Angelica] a hug. I couldn鈥檛 play with her.鈥�

鈥淚t鈥檚 very difficult, the way this government is dividing families,鈥� he adds. 鈥淲e鈥檙e trying to do things the right way, asking legally for them, and it鈥檚 hard.鈥�

Success rate of 0.3%

His family is still in Mexico, and still in MPP, but they at least have legal representation (only 3% of asylum-seekers do). And they are no longer in Honduras. For this, Jos茅 is grateful.

鈥淚 went through a legal process. I went in front of a judge, I defended myself, I was heard,鈥� he adds. 鈥淚n my country, with the position I had as an activist, you only have two things: one, you鈥檙e assassinated; or two, you鈥檙e locked up.鈥�

Asylum into the U.S. is becoming increasingly difficult to obtain, however.

A goal of MPP 鈥渋s to discourage the abuse of U.S. laws as well as non-meritorious or false asylum claims,鈥� the CBP official wrote. 鈥淭his allows the United States to more effectively administer its laws, including assisting legitimate asylum seekers and individuals fleeing persecution.鈥�

The Trump administration restricted asylum further in 2018 by eliminating fears of gang and domestic violence as credible grounds for asylum. Persecution based on political beliefs is still a valid basis, however. In that context Jos茅鈥檚 asylum case was straightforward 鈥� relatively speaking, at least.

鈥淚t was a very strong and compelling case, but in this climate nothing can be taken for granted,鈥� says Professor Steglich.

About 60,000 migrants are in MPP deportation proceedings, and through December 2019 just , or 0.3%, had been successful, according to the Transactional Records Access Clearinghouse at Syracuse University. Many of the successful asylum cases are Venezuelan and Cuban migrants fleeing political persecution, adds Professor Steglich, but Central American claims are often more complicated.

鈥淭he factual complexities of the cases require experts, require a more intimate understanding of their stories, and MPP does not allow for that at all,鈥� she continues. 鈥淢PP has been crushing. It has truly made a mockery of the immigration court system.鈥�

Wedding season

Damaris and Angelica can both request asylum based on 鈥渋mputed political opinion鈥� 鈥� that in Honduras they faced the same political persecution Jos茅 claims he faced.

Getting married will make their case that little bit stronger, they hope 鈥� and they鈥檙e not alone.

Sallie Gonzalez, the local justice of the peace who officiated their wedding last weekend, says she has done several.

鈥淚 have actually probably two or three more in my calendar for [February]. I love seeing happy families together,鈥� she adds. 鈥淚 don鈥檛 know the actual process of [asylum], but if it helps them then I鈥檓 all for it.鈥�

So far, the marriage hasn鈥檛 helped Damaris and Angelica get out of Matamoros. Two days after the wedding, CBP denied their request to be paroled or removed from MPP. For privacy reasons, CBP is precluded from discussing individual cases.

At the bus terminal last week, Jos茅鈥檚 eyes well with tears. 鈥淚f my family goes back [to Honduras], it鈥檚 certain my wife will be murdered,鈥� he says.

Angelica is 鈥渁lready getting her own personality. I don鈥檛 even know her, and she doesn鈥檛 even know who I am,鈥� he adds.

鈥淚 want to create a life, a future, with our daughter 鈥� things that in Honduras just wouldn鈥檛 happen,鈥� he continues. 鈥淲e鈥檙e just going to get back that time we lost, and do the best we can as a family, as human beings, so we can contribute to this country.鈥�